


Stiles is Sick

by idacalgal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Caretaker Derek Hale, Derek Feels, Derek is Not a Failwolf, Derek is a Softie, Illness, M/M, Minor, NyQuil, POV Derek, POV Derek Hale, Sick Character, Sick Stiles, Sickfic, Underage - Freeform, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idacalgal/pseuds/idacalgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is sick and thanks to California's recent ban on the purchase of cough syrup by minors, he has to go to Derek to help him.</p><p>Cute, fluffy one-shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles is Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading! For now, this is meant as a one shot but with a few suggestions about what you want to see happen in future chapters I may continue. 
> 
> Thanks again!
> 
> Love you all!
> 
> XOXO - Ryan

Stiles snorted wetly and huffed out a rattled breath as Derek slid open the heavy metal door of the loft. 

 

“Wow, you look like shit, Stiles.” Derek said, trying to maintain an amused tone to his voice, but failing miserably as he took in Stiles’ swollen, red-rimmed eyes, bright pink nose, dry lips and pale skin. 

 

“Thanks, Sourwolf.” Stiles croaked with an eye-roll. 

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Derek asked, eying the dark circles under Stiles’ eyes and the tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. 

 

Stiles swiped a sleeve under his nose and produced a thick cough before answering.

 

“I’m sick, dumbass, what does it look like? Clearly that isn’t something you ever have to worry about.” Stiles explained, slitting his eyes into a half-hearted glare.

 

“I see that. Why does that bring you here?” Derek questioned.

 

“I need your help.” Stiles breathed, his shoulder slumping forward in defeat.

 

“Ohhh no. I am not playing nurse Derek for you.” Derek growled, even as he pictures Stiles curled up cutely on his couch while he spooned chicken noodle soup into the young boy’s mouth. 

 

Oh no, that image was far too appealing. Derek tightened the muscles in his jaw and bit down on that thought. As much as he wanted to, Derek couldn’t handle being so close. He struggled to maintain control over himself in everyday interactions with his desire for the man before him growing harder and harder to ignore with each meeting. No way, having Stiles curled delicately on Derek’s couch would only serve to open the already failing floodgates and threaten to send Derek tumbling headfirst in love with Stiles which he couldn’t let happen.

 

“I’m not asking you to take care of me,” Stiles said, taking a break to breathe in a gasp of air before he continued, “I need you to get me something. I’m not old enough.” 

 

Stiles looked embarrassed, his cheeks getting a faint flush of pink as he kept his eyes trained on the center of Derek’s chest instead of his eyes.

 

“Booze is not going to make you feel any better. It’ll probably make it worse, actually.” Derek explained, wondering how seriously sick Stiles was if he honestly thought that he could drink this kind of problem away. 

 

“No! Not booze. Cough syrup.” Stiles explained. 

 

“You aren’t old enough to buy cough syrup?” Derek asked, incredulous. 

 

“Yeah, like 6 months ago, California put a ban on minors buying cough syrup because they were using it to get high and cook meth or something.” Stiles said, panting a little at the end, looking winded. 

 

“Come in, you look like you’re going to faint.” Derek said, trying the mask the concern that he was actually feeling towards the pale, skinny boy with his usual gruffness. He wasn’t as successful as he’d like to be but he hoped that Stiles was too sick to notice. 

 

“Thank you. I was actually getting dizzy for a minute there.” Stiles said as he stumbled forward and into the loft. 

 

“What exactly do you need me to buy?” Derek asked, carefully placing a hand at Stiles shoulder, steering him to the arm of the couch. 

 

“Nyquil. I just want to sleep it off.” Stiles said, exhausted. 

 

“Okay. Stay here.” Derek agreed easily, swinging his leather jacket over his shoulders and slipping into his boots before he walked out the door. 

 

~tw~tw~tw~tw~tw~tw~tw~

 

Fifteen minutes later, Derek shoved open the door to the loft, closing it softly behind him as he slipped off his jacket and boots. Quietly, he crossed to the kitchen, at first not seeing Stiles at all. He took a moment before he moved on to the living room to peak over the back of the couch that faced away from him and sure enough, there was the boy. He had slipped his sneakers off and curled up with one hand pressed under his cheek like a child and the other fisted around the sleeve of his sweatshirt in front of his mouth. 

 

Stiles looked so fragile, thin, and vulnerable. There were dark circles under his eyes and his nose was bright pink, a sharp contrast to his otherwise sickly pale skin. His full, pale lips were parted delicately and he breathed noisily through the gap there. Derek felt a lurch in his chest as he eyed the human below him. 

 

Careful to be as quiet as possible, Derek moved around the arm of the couch so he could crouch in front of Stiles. He gently laid a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing softly in an effort to wake Stiles up as gently as possible. After a moment, Stiles yawned largely, followed by a small, weak cough before opening his eyes wearily. 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Stiles said with wide, innocent eyes that Derek could seem to look away from.

 

Derek allowed a small soft smile to grace his face as he told Stiles that it was okay. 

 

“Oh wow, I really am sick.” Stiles said, his eyes growing even wider.

 

“Stiles? What do you mean, are you okay?” Derek question, his gaze hardening into concern as he eyed all over Stiles’ face and chest, looking for evidence of something being wrong. 

 

“I’m hallucinating. Derek Hale does not smile. Or make that adorable worried-face.” Stiles said with a smirk, voice barely above a whisper. 

 

“Did you just call me adorable?” Derek questioned, quirking an eyebrow. 

 

“You are a little bit. Especially when you make that worried face.” Stiles admits easily. 

 

“Yeah, you must be sick.” Derek said with an eyeroll, leaning back to begin to stand back up, ignoring the tug in his stomach and being complimented by Stiles. He doesn’t get far though, because Stiles shoots out a clammy hand and captures Derek’s arm.

 

“No, wait,” Stiles starts and Derek squats down to eye-level again, “I mean it. I really do find you insanely attractive.” 

 

Derek snorts at first, thinking that Stiles is messing with him like always, but then he notices the look on Stiles’ face. His warm eyes, glistening in the soft afternoon light, were wide and sincere, his expression open and vulnerable. That, in conjunction with Stiles’ compromised health and childlike position on the couch tore down Derek’s ability to make jabs at the poor kid. 

 

“You’re serious.” Derek whispered, taking in the lack of blip in Stiles’ heartbeat.

 

“I am very serious. I like you, Sourwolf.” Stiles said softly, eyes boring into Derek’s.

 

Derek suddenly felt very exposed with Stiles’ eyes on him. It felt as though Stiles could see right through his skin. 

 

When Derek was unable to form a response, Stiles continued nervously, “If you reject me, I swear I’ll blame every ounce of this on an illness-induced delusion.” 

 

“I hope it isn’t a delusion.” Derek found himself saying in a low voice. 

 

“You do?” Stiles responded, his eyes going bambi-wide again. 

 

Derek’s heart was racing and his mouth felt as though it was stuffed with cotton, but he forced himself to speak through it.

 

“I think I like you too.” Derek admitted quietly.

 

Stiles beamed at that, his smile so bright that for a moment, he didn’t even look sick anymore. However, the moment ended quickly when Stiles fell into an intense coughing fit that had him doubled over the edge of the couch. Derek rubbed his back through the worst of it and watched with wary eyes as Stiles laid his head back down, wiping the small flecks of saliva from his lips with his sleeve. During his fit, Stiles’ eyes had teared up and a single drop had escaped his lashes. Derek watched it trail down his cheek for a moment before reaching up to softly cradle Stiles jaw as he used his thumb to gingerly wipe the tear away. 

 

Stiles’ eyes were wide and locked on Derek’s. Derek could hear Stiles’ breath catch in his throat as his lips parted in surprise at his gentle touch. The small movement of his lips drew Derek’s attention downward and he found himself drawn into the soft bow and curve of his lips which were slightly more pink than before, a shade that matched the splotchy color that was spreading across Stiles’ high cheekbones. It took a huge effort to finally drag his gaze back up to meet, Stiles’ eyes, but when he did, he was met with an expression so open and soft that his heart kicked into high gear and his breathing became shallow as he realized what he was going to do. 

 

Slowly, giving Stiles time to pull back, Derek leaned in, maintaining eye contact with Stiles. As soon as Stiles was sure what was happening though, his eyelids fluttered closed, his plush eyelashes landing softly against his cheek. That small motion of trust was all Derek needed to lean in the rest of the way. 

 

Their lips met softly, a tender kiss that sent warm waves of electricity through Derek body, striking him in the chest. Stiles’ hand moved shakily to Derek’s chest to wrap weakly in Derek’s shirt just near the collar. It only took a moment or two for Stiles to pull back with a gasp, looking to Derek apologetically.

 

“Ugh, sorry. I can’ breed fru by doze.” Stiles said, sniffling again. 

 

Derek just chuckled and leaned back, “That’s okay. We’ll try again when you’re feeling better. Speaking of…”

 

With that, Derek pulled the Nyquil out of the bag at his side and pulled the box open, removing two of the pills and then grabbing the bottle of grape Gatorade out of the bag, handing them to Stiles. 

 

Stiles scooted up to prop himself up on his elbows while he took the medicine. The cold liquid made Stiles shiver and raised goose bumps along his skin. Once he was finished and had set the bottle on the ground, Derek moved forward, slipping a hand under Stiles shoulders and knees. This elicited a squeak from Stiles as his hands flew wildly to Derek’s shoulders. 

 

“Whaa--” Stiles started before Derek shushed him. 

 

Derek turned and sat down in the corner of the sofa, laying back against the arm of the sofa, releasing Stiles legs so they could lay beside his before moving his arms to wrap around his waist. 

 

“Mmm, you’re warm.” Stiles purred, rolling onto his stomach so his entire body was pressed against Derek, which earned him a shiver from the wolf below him. Stiles smirked and laid his cheek down on Derek’s shoulder, sliding one hand under Derek arm to rest against his shoulder blade and fisting the other in the soft cotton of Derek’s shirt just below his collarbone. Derek sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms protectively around the boy before snuggling down into the hair on top of his head, falling asleep while breathing in the boys warm scent.


End file.
